


Nobody likes the taste of black coffee

by teleogenesis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, and kageyama being an awkward lovestruck idiot, coffee shop AU, surprise! there's a chapter two now, with very light Asahi/Suga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6724657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teleogenesis/pseuds/teleogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata can't stand the taste of black coffee and is determined to change that - with some help from a certain grumpy barista.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hinata Shouyou was, plainly speaking, the kind of guy who never drank black coffee.

 

He had tried it once as a child, asking at his mother’s knee to try some of the alluring-smelling brew she made every morning, thinking that it must be a truly amazing drink for his mother to love it so much. She had obliged with a saccharine sweet smile on her face, and poured him a small cup of his very own.

 

The taste was the biggest disappoint of his young life.

 

He'd avoided the stuff for years after that, until he re-discovered the energizing powers of coffee as a new and very tired entrant to the workforce. It was bearable, he found, with milk added, and the sugar rush from especially sweet drinks were an extra boost to his morning. There was even a humble coffee shop that sat right on his usual path to work, and it quickly became his favorite place to grab his daily cup. The shop was cozy, and run by a former classmate who always greeted Hinata with a warm familiarity that got the day started on the right foot. And he was happy with that routine.

 

Until one morning, when Kouji had decided (with his big, stupid mouth) to mention something about it. He'd only meant it to be a lighthearted tease, just for fun, about how Hinata was like a kid, unable to stomach black coffee. And not taking the insult to his pride laying down, Hinata fired back that Kouji was the stupid one, subjecting himself to the bitter sludge he drank everyday just for the sake of looking cool. But that day, for the first time since he was a child, Hinata’s cup sat unfinished, and he spent the entire day with a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

So the next morning, as the sun was barely starting to peek over the skyline, Hinata found himself out in front of the usual cafe, mentally preparing for the challenge he was about to face.

 

“I'm not a kid. I can totally drink black coffee if I want. Totally. I'll even like it, too. Yeah.” He grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the way his taste buds were pre-emptively screaming in terror as he pushed open the door.

 

Surprisingly, he wasn't met by the usual cheery welcome Suga gave him. Hinata looked about in confusion, wondering if his former classmate turned cafe owner had stepped into the back to take care of some business, and instead found a very tired-looking man with black hair standing behind the counter, wiping it down with a tattered bar rag. It quickly clicked in Hinata’s brain - The man was named Kageyama, if his name tag was to be trusted. He'd been added to the crew a few months prior to help out with shift coverage, and he was absolutely, without a doubt, _the crankiest_ person Hinata had ever had the misfortune of crossing. They'd collided violently one morning as Hinata rushed carelessly into the shop, knocking them both to the floor along with the stack of ceramic mugs Kageyama had been carrying, and he swore Kageyama only _just_ managed to restrain himself from bodily flinging Hinata right back out the door. Their interactions following that day, though rare, were usually no better.

 

He couldn't figure out why on earth someone as people-friendly as Suga would put up with such a sour attitude from his employees, but the man did always have an unorthodox way of going about things. And the enigmatic grin he wore whenever Hinata dared to ask about Kageyama was more than uncomfortable enough for him to learn to avoid the topic altogether.

 

Hinata approached the counter pensively, trying to avoid making any sudden movements that could provoke the barista, and smiled brightly when Kageyama peered at him out of the corner of his eye, giving a small nod in greeting and pocketing his rag.

 

“Morning. The usual?” Kageyama spoke slowly, with a grogginess to his tone that seemed so far removed from what someone who works at _a coffee shop_ should reasonably sound like it was almost funny. But Hinata had no time for laughter here. He was on a mission.

 

“Nope. I want a black coffee today.” Hinata spoke evenly, while holding his head high in an attempt to look taller and more mature than he was. He expected a joke, some rebuff or offhanded comment, and was fully prepared to fight the barista for any slight. But for his effort, Kageyama only met him with a flat gaze.

 

“What kind?”

 

“... Huh?” The word was more of a defeated ‘woosh’ of air as his body suddenly deflated, allowing Hinata to fall back into his natural posture. This seemed to irritate Kageyama, his face wrinkling up into an annoyed grimace.

 

“I asked you what kind you want.” The barista fixed Hinata with a penetrating stare, and it chased the last semblance of false confidence right out of him. Hinata glanced quickly to the rows of gleaming silver utensils and containers on the counter behind Kageyama, trying to quickly determine if some sign would deliver an answer to his hasty, unspoken question. But unfortunately, he didn't know a damn thing about any of the weird instruments laid out there - The only thing he could come close to putting a name to was a little container that looked like a miniature tea pot. Kageyama sighed, crossing his arms and fixing Hinata with a look that spoke levels to his obvious irritation. Hinata could only gulp down his nerves and grin sheepishly.

 

“You come in here every day for coffee and you seriously can't even tell me what kind of brew you want?”

 

“U-uhm, that's…”

 

“Ridiculous? Yeah, I agree.” Kageyama interjected, and Hinata bristled at his tone. “I’ll make your usual and save you the effort.” Without even blinking, Kageyama slipped a pen out of his apron pocket and produced a fresh paper cup, moving to write Hinata’s regular order on it.

 

But instead of accepting Kageyama’s stinging words - Hinata snapped his hand out, swiping the cup straight out of the other’s hand and using the sudden surge of adrenaline to keep him from backing down in the face of Kageyama’s absolutely _livid_ expression.

 

“Okay, so maybe I don't know anything about coffee, Mister stuck-up know-it-all barista. But that doesn't mean I'm not good enough to learn! And you don't know if I'll like it or not unless you let me try!” He half-shouted at the other while clutching the unmarked paper cup to his chest so tight it nearly crumpled. Kageyama narrowed his gaze at Hinata, staring with an intensity so pointed that he could practically feel his skin prickling.

 

Without breaking eye contact, Kageyama thrust out his hand, and Hinata, dumbfounded, simply looked down at it before snapping his gaze back up to the other’s face. Grimacing, Kageyama reached out further and snatched the cup back himself.

 

“It's bad enough I'm going to have to waste time teaching you, I’m not going to waste cups on top of that.”

 

Hinata couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face at that.

 

 

* * *

  
  


But of course it wasn't long at all before that smile was gone again.

 

Hinata whimpered pitifully as he held a sip of black coffee on his tongue, agonizing over the bitter taste while Kageyama went on about “ _body_ ” and “ _acidity_ ” and how everything from roasting time to geographic region of the bean could affect the taste of the resulting coffee. It was basically torture, no matter how he looked at it. Even if Hinata could tell the inherent difference between a dark and blonde roast now, he still felt like he was sipping warm dirt, while someone tried to explain to him why sipping warm dirt was actually amazing. He fought with his throat to swallow the mouthful of blonde roast down, and found himself unable to help grimacing at the way it made his tonsils itch.

 

“So, that covers brewed coffee. Want to move on to espresso?” Kageyama asked while reaching across the table to gather up Hinata’s cup once more, the inside dyed brown with the remnants of their last few tests. Hinata screwed up his face at the idea, but if Kageyama noticed his unenthusiastic reaction, he certainly didn't bother to acknowledge it.

 

“The only real ‘black’ espresso drink we serve is an Americano, since the shots die without milk added to them. But it's still technically black, if you want to try.” Hinata paused, considering Kageyama’s words for a moment.

 

“What do you mean they ‘die’?” He asked hesitantly.

 

“That's just what we call it. If you don't add anything to the espresso shot after it’s pulled, it oxidizes and makes the shot lose its good flavor.”

 

“Ah, I see.”

 

_Good flavor, my ass._ Hinata thought to himself, actively choosing to hold his tongue and ignore the questioning stare Kageyama was giving him. After a prolonged moment of silence, Kageyama sighed and stood from the corner table where they had situated themselves for Hinata’s coffee-tasting foray.

 

“Well, that's pretty much all I can tell you about black coffee anyway. If you don't have any more questions, then I've got to get back to actually doing my job.”

 

Hinata faltered then, feeling as though he hadn't had any success at all. Black coffee still tasted like shit. He still didn't think he could force himself to drink it on a daily basis without gagging or grimacing or even shedding a tortured year at the sheer discomfort. He opened his mouth to protest, and Kageyama paused in response, raising a single brow as he waited. But the words never came, and Hinata simply sunk back into his seat, shamefully casting his gaze away while muttering his thanks. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Kageyama slowly turned and walked back behind the counter, getting back to his work at long last, hands flying over the espresso machine set against the back wall.

 

Hinata sat for a moment, considering swallowing his pride and walking up to the counter to obtain his usual vanilla latte and heading home to spend his day off stewing over his own shortcoming, but was surprised when Kageyama moved back into his periphery, clearing his throat to draw Hinata’s attention back up.

 

He held the same overused cup in his hand, now fitted with a proper lid, and his fingers drummed against the side. Hinata looked up to Kageyama’s face, and found that the barista seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Before Hinata even had the chance to ask what Kageyama was doing, he slammed the cup down on the table, with too much force to have possibly been intentional. They both froze for a moment, and Kageyama slowly, mechanically retracted his arm, stuffing it in his apron pocket as if ashamed by the outburst.

 

“H-here. You can have this one for free, today.” Kageyama said in a stiff voice, and Hinata had to wonder if the barista’s attitude problem was actually more an issue of awkwardness than of bad temper. After a beat of silence, Kageyama opened his mouth again, hesitantly. “It's… My favorite.”

 

Before Hinata could respond Kageyama had turned and retreated back behind the safety of the counter, and despite the distance between them Hinata could have sworn the man’s ears were colored just the slightest shade of red. Biting his lip to stifle a laugh, Hinata turned his attention back to the cup before him, and noticed a phone number scrawled sloppily on the side of it, along with the words “Call me for the name”. He did laugh then, and quickly brought the cup to his lips to taste what awful concoction the emotionally constipated Kageyama could possibly consider his favorite - And was pleasantly surprised to find his taste buds flooded with a light, milky drink that tasted faintly of cinnamon and sugar.

  
That day, Hinata Shouyou discovered two new things he liked at his usual coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Kageyama's drink is a flat white with cinnamon and sugar
> 
> • Suga's been trying to set them up since day one because he's a good friend and a terrible boss
> 
> • this was written on my phone at midnight and unbeta'd so if it's terrible I assume zero responsibility goodnight


	2. Chapter 2

Kageyama Tobio, according to nearly everyone who ever met him, was absolutely not a morning person.

 

He was a decent person, and at his core had a good heart - But on the condition that he was never woken before dawn. And that was where his greatest problem was. When woken up, his entire disposition would change for the rest of the day, transforming him from his usual unassuming self to a nightmarishly bitter  _ jerk  _ with a scowl that could make children cry. 

 

Thankfully though, there was one thing that could help turn him from a morning terror back into a semblance of his normal self; A magical brew called coffee. He’d been introduced to the stuff as a very tired high-school freshman, and quickly become hooked on its energizing properties. Even after his years in high school, he was still hopelessly dependent on it to function, and as such it wasn’t much of a surprise when, as a university hopeful with empty pockets, he applied for part-time work with a coffee shop close to his apartment. 

 

The owner Sugawara - or Suga, as he requested everyone call him - was a genial man who had started up the cafe with his former classmate Asahi right out of high school, and due to their combined charm, the store had gone through a period of rapid growth that demanded more staffing. Luckily Kageyama was the first to apply, and Suga saw no issue with hiring him on the spot. But it did present one problem.

 

“Three thirty…?” Kageyama asked incredulously, his eyes set on the smiling face of his new boss.

 

“Yep, that's right.” Suga responded, his grin not diminishing in the slightest - rather, it seemed like he was smiling even more than before.

 

“... In the afternoon?” Kageyama chanced.

 

“Nope. In the morning. Be sure to bring a clean apron with you okay?” And like that, Kageyama’s small sliver of hope was destroyed. Utterly crushed and ground into dust. Kageyama still agreed to the position, but his eyes seemed just a little more lifeless than before.

 

The next morning (if it could even be called that) found him miserable, exhausted, and desperately clutching a mug of coffee Asahi had offered him at the beginning of his shift - Which was kind of him to do, but Kageyama had the distinct feeling that Suga was getting a kick out of his suffering.

 

Slowly, and with a lot of assistance in the form of several more cups of coffee, Kageyama started to fall into the early-morning routine. The work was easy enough to handle with his minimal amount of energy, and Suga usually dealt with the more social aspects of the job, preventing Kageyama’s foul morning attitude from driving away business. He actually found himself enjoying it. The slower moments where Asahi would pull him aside to teach him more about drink anatomy or how to steam milk were actually pretty interesting, and he even tried his hand at a few drinks.

 

Weeks passed on the job, and while he still didn’t make many improvements in the realm of his customer service, Kageyama did learn more and more about the nuances of coffee. Asahi patiently coached him through the differences between brewed coffee and espresso, how a french press differed from a pourover, and how to distinguish each roast type by taste. While he had never been a fan of plain black coffee, their tasting sessions gave him a new appreciation for the subtle differences of each brew. Some stayed heavy on his tongue, smoky and rich, while others were lighter, the perfect pair to a citrus tart. He found himself looking forwards to moments where Suga would emerge from the back room with a new bag in hand, boasting proudly about his newest batch acquisition - Because a tasting would almost certainly follow, complete with snacks.

 

But fate found a way to throw a wrench into all of that progress, and at exactly seven twenty three in the morning, Kageyama’s next obstacle came crashing into his life - Literally.

 

The first thing he registered was the small jingle of the bells tied to the front door and a very quick flash of orange. Kageyama turned, as he was taught to, to give their new customer a greeting, but he barely had time to form the words before something was ramming into his side, knocking him to the ground along with the tray of hand-crafted ceramic mugs he had been gathering from the cafe. His head smacked violently into the hardwood floor, and for a moment it felt like the entire world was spinning. He could vaguely register the sound of the cups smashing against the floor and a few gasps of surprise from the onlooking patrons, but the bloom of pain at the back of his head occupied most of his attention. Not even in his years as a high-school athlete had he experienced a pain quite so bad.

 

“Oh man… Oh no, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” A voice rang out, much closer and clearer than any other sound, drawing Kageyama’s attention to the source. 

 

Right then and there, Kageyama Tobio was convinced he had died and ascended to heaven, because hovering just above him was the hazy image of an angel with brilliant red hair, surrounded by a literal halo of light cast on him by the morning sun. His brown eyes were wide with surprise and concern, his tiny, dark eyebrows drawn together in a way that Kageyama thought, with a skip in his heartbeat, was horribly cute. 

 

“I’m… I…” Kageyama gurgled, half incapacitated by how awestruck he was with the seraphic being before him, and half by the shock of his developing head trauma. The angel pressed in a little closer, face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to hear Kageyama’s words, and Kageyama swore he could feel the angel’s breath on his face. The idea did something very, very strange to his stomach.

 

“Here, give him some space, Hinata.” From off to the side, Suga’s voice spoke, and Hinata’s face quickly - disappointingly - disappeared from his vision.

 

_ Hinata. _

 

The name suited him, Kageyama thought, for as radiant as he seemed to be. He drew in a slow breath as he stared up at the ceiling tiles, trying to get a grasp on his reeling brain. His heart was racing, and he could hardly get enough air to satisfy his aching lungs. It was oddly pleasant, in a way that he couldn’t quite describe, and thought that he might not mind experiencing again sometime either.

 

After a moment, Suga’s face peeked into his periphery, with worry etched into his features. “Kageyama, can you stand? Would you like us to call an ambulance…?” Suga spoke slowly and softly, cell phone already in his hand and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

 

Kageyama stared directly at him for a few tense and awkward seconds, before opening his mouth to quietly ask a single question that would doom him forever, “Is this what people mean when they talk about love at first sight?”

 

Suga’s brows shot up, nearly touching his hairline, and his eyes went wide at Kageyama’s words. He stared at Kageyama before slowly turning his head to look at someone off to the side for a brief moment, then quickly snapping his attention back to his employee, a bemused grin pulling at his lips.

 

Realizing his mistake, Kageyama shot up straight, a stab of pain in the back of his head making him hiss and clap a hand over the spot to rub it tenderly. Hinata, who had apparently scooted backwards at Sugawara’s order immediately bounded back over and placed himself directly in Kageyama’s personal space.

 

“Thank god, I was worried I had killed you! You’re not gonna die right? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean-” He chattered on, fidgeting nervously and scratching at the back of his head, and for his efforts Kageyama pinned him with a scrutinizing glare. Hinata was certainly cute, even outside the realm of concussion-distorted perception. Kageyama liked the way he dressed, the timbre of his voice, the way he looked like he’d fit nicely into his arms if Kageyama were to reach out and hold him -

 

Suga cleared his throat audibly, and in that second Kageyama’s senses came back to him, suddenly flooding him with the realization that Hinata - no matter how cute he was - had in one move destroyed half the shop’s mugs, given Kageyama an  _ extremely painful _ head injury, and enough ammo for Suga to tease him about for the rest of his miserable life.

 

He was a menace.

  
  
  
  


And he continued to prove it, almost daily, as if he were operating by some internal clock that simply _demanded_ chaos. The second time Kageyama saw him, Hinata managed to knock over every single drink waiting on the hand-off plane, including his own - a mess that Kageyama had to mop up while Hinata stood off to the side, whimpering apology after apology. The third found him traipsing into a chair that some patron had failed to push back in, and taking down the entire wrought iron table set with him. And it just went on, until Kageyama had been conditioned to dread the sight of Hinata outside the  café doors, instead of looking forward to his arrival.

 

Which was a true shame, considering how Kageyama’s attraction had barely waned at all since day one. He wished he could quash it down, but it seemed like every time he got close, Hinata would waltz right back in, ordering his stupidly sweet daily latte and turning that blindingly bright smile on Kageyama, melting his heart all over again. 

 

“He’s awful. A walking workplace hazard.” Kageyama grumbled to Suga one morning after Hinata had left, feeling even more haggard than he had before the orange terror had dropped in.

 

“Who, Hinata?” Suga’s brows lifted at the gripe, and his mouth dropped open in surprise when Kageyama nodded in confirmation. “I mean… He's a little clumsy, but he's not the worst customer in the world.”

 

Kageyama snorted as he turned back to the espresso machine and pulled a lever to clean the steaming wand, sending a cloud of vapor into the air. Not one to be blown off, Suga reached over and flicked Kageyama’s ear, earning him a startled yelp.

 

“Come on, he's a nice enough kid. You just need to lighten up a little. Maybe take a page out of his book and try to be more cheerful yourself, hm?” For his effort though, Suga was only rewarded with a small shrug before Kageyama went right back to steaming a waiting pitcher of milk. With a wicked grin, Suga leaned in just a little too close for Kageyama’s comfort, “After all, weren’t you the one who declared it love at first sight the moment you two met?” 

 

The look of mortification on Kageyama’s face was hysterical, and it only got better when, in his shock, he lost control of the steaming wand and splattered himself head to toe with milk. 

 

After that incident, Kageyama found himself spending an unreasonable amount of time thinking about Hinata. Even when he was doing innocuous daily tasks he found his mind wandering to the hyperactive customer. He wondered what Hinata would say in response to an essay question, or what kind of foods he would place in the shopping basket, with those brown eyes of his lit up in excitement. When he curled up on his worn-out futon at night, he wondered what a sleeping Hinata would look like - if he even actually slept at all. 

 

It kept going like that, building up until Kageyama was practically boiling over with curiosity. He wanted to ask questions, to know more, to see more, to  _ experience  _ more of Hinata than just the small glimpse he got to see every day at work. And he tried to, on a few occasions. A perfect opportunity arose one day when Suga left to accept a delivery in the back, leaving Kageyama to take care of Hinata’s order. It went perfectly well, Hinata ordering his drink and Kageyama taking his payment - Until Kageyama decided to open his mouth.

 

“Are you good at anything?” 

 

He wanted to die, right then and there.

 

Unsurprisingly, Hinata took immediate offense to the question, launching into a tirade that got the two of them bickering so loudly that Suga had to rush in from the back room to placate them both. He made a vow then, to never attempt to ask Hinata about his hobbies ever again.

 

Weeks passed without any sort of progress, and intrusive thoughts continued plaguing Kageyama from the moment he woke up until the moment he fell asleep. He’d see a flash of orange on his way home from work and his heart would skip a beat, wondering if it was Hinata he’d caught a glimpse of in his periphery, only to find himself deflating when it was just a banner flickering in the wind. Suga, of course, was of little help. He swore up and down that those obsessive thoughts were proof of a blossoming romance - which Kageyama insisted was  _ absolutely not the case _ . He couldn't possibly have a crush on Hinata when the kid irritated the living shit out of him. Those two feelings just didn't mix. But even Asahi, sweet and gentle and always willing to see the argument from both sides, agreed with Suga, and Kageyama found his resistance slowly wearing thin.

 

The final blow was dealt when one strange morning, Kageyama woke up at his usual time to the thought that he’d like to see Hinata’s smiling face there, at that moment. He sat in a stupor for so long that he was very nearly late for work, and didn't even realize that his shirt was on inside out until Suga pointed it out to him. That was the point where he finally admitted to himself that yes, he maybe had the smallest crush on Hinata Shouyou.

  
  
  
  
  


 

“Asahi-senpai.” Kageyama grumbled one morning as he sidled up to the machine next to Asahi’s, eyes refusing to look up at his coworker, instead training his gaze on the drinks at hand. He absolutely, definitely did not want to go through with this. But he needed to talk to someone, and he’d be damned if he gave Suga any more ammunition to tease him with. Asahi hummed pleasantly, casting a quick glance at Kageyama before turning his attention back to his own work.

 

“Can I help you with something, Kageyama?” He asked, deep voice as gentle as ever, and Kageyama bit down on the inside of his cheek. His face felt like it was burning.

 

“I… I think I like someone and I don’t know what to do.” The admission was soft, but clearly not soft enough for Asahi to miss, as he began to sputter and nearly dropped the bell pitcher in his hand. Kageyama curled into himself even more, willing his embarrassment to vanish.

 

“Well that’s…” Asahi started with a sheepish chuckle, scratching at his neck, “Uhm, I don’t really think I’m the best person to take advice from about romance. Are you sure you don’t want to ask Suga instead? He’s so much more...” He trailed off there, pursing his lips as though struggling for the right word. But Kageyama shook his head quickly, stare burning a hole in the side of the cup he was working on. 

 

“I know. But I don’t think he’d ever let me live this down, not after… Everything.” He sighed, quickly pouring the milk he’d been steaming on top of the espresso shots he’d pulled into the cup, lidding it and sliding it to Asahi to hand out. He did so, without question, before turning his gaze back on Kageyama.

 

“That’s fair enough… He still teases me to this day about how long I spent pining over him before I managed to confess. Even though we’ve been together nearly four years now.” Kageyama’s eyes widened at Asahi’s words, finally turning to look at the man beside him properly. That certainly was a fact Kageyama hadn’t known about his co-workers before. Asahi smiled shyly, a pink tint on his cheeks. “Suga’s kind of ruthless like that, I suppose.” Kageyama nodded slowly, the drinks on his bar forgotten.

 

“How did you confess?” Kageyama asked bluntly, and Asahi’s face erupted into a ridiculous shade of red.

 

“Th-that’s…!” He squeaked - a ridiculous sound for someone of his size and stature - and began to physically shy away from Kageyama, as though he could dodge the question that way, “I… Uhm, that’s to say… You should probably find a way to confess to Hinata that’s unique to the two of you instead of… That.” If possible, Asahi’s blush became even deeper, and Kageyama felt his own cheeks heating up, somehow getting the impression that his timid coworker was much bolder than he previously thought.

 

“A way unique to us, huh…” Kageyama murmured as he turned back to the drinks at hand, mind turning over Asahi’s words, “Thanks, senpai.”

 

“Please… Please don’t mention it. Ever.” Asahi moaned into the hand covering his red face.

  
  
  
  
  
  


As it turned out, Kageyama didn’t have to wait long at all for the perfect opportunity to present itself. The very next day Hinata turned up, suddenly demanding a cup of black coffee, and knowing Hinata to be a serial consumer of vanilla lattes and little else, Kageyama quickly attempted to curb whatever nonsense had gotten into his head. But Hinata refused, as headstrong as ever, and that somehow led Kageyama ended up pulling him aside for a tasting. 

 

One-on-one.

 

He rubbed his clammy palms against his apron underneath the table, watching as Hinata tried out every brew he brought, and willed his voice to stay calm, refused to let it crack despite the fact that his stomach was twisting itself into knots. His eyes stayed on Hinata’s lips the entire time - Watching as they pressed against the cup for a sip, how they would twist into a grimace at each brew’s bitterness, and the way he’d swipe his tongue over them at the end to clear away the taste.

 

Kageyama wished he could lean over and kiss the taste off Hinata’s lips for him instead.

 

But he held back, despite how tempting the idea was, and before long at all their tasting had drawn to a close, leaving Hinata sagged in his seat and looking so  _ discouraged  _ that it made Kageyama’s heart physically ache. He was used to Hinata looking frustrated or angry or panicked, but he had never seen him look so despondent, and he didn’t like it one bit.

 

It was then that the idea struck Kageyama. He quickly left the table where they had settled in for their tasting, tossing the well-used paper cup under the espresso machine without a second thought and prepared the shots to pull, then quickly steamed a pitcher of milk until it nearly overflowed with smooth, velvety foam. With a practiced hand he held the pitcher high above the cup, keeping the flow of milk steady so that it blended in evenly, turning the espresso’s deep brown into a beautiful chestnut that was decorated with a single dot of white foam in the center. He threw a dash of cinnamon sugar on top for good measure, then lidded the drink and pulled his pen out from his apron pocket.

 

Kageyama glanced over at Hinata, who was still slumped over in his chair at their table, and drew in a deep breath. He was sure about his feelings, and was no longer at the point where he could deny them. All that he needed to do was gather the courage to take the plunge, and hope Hinata would reciprocate. Clenching his jaw, Kageyama lifted the cup and scrawled his phone number on the side along with a short message, then mechanically made his way back to Hinata.

 

He set the cup down way too hard. Slammed it, really. He knew from the way Hinata startled, eyes wide as though he was expecting Kageyama to reach out and attack him suddenly. And then he wasn’t so sure about his plan, or his feelings, or anything at all. Quickly, without thinking much about what was coming out of his mouth, Kageyama gave an explanation for the sudden gift and made a hasty retreat. He wanted to kick himself for being so awkward, knowing for certain that Hinata - bright, bubbly, friendly Hinata - would never be interested in such a sullen and weird guy. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d been left alone to man the front, Kageyama would have bolted into the backroom where he could safely curl up in a corner and stew in his mortification, but he found himself trapped in the same room as Hinata still, and it was damned impossible to resist sneaking a peek at his reflection in the chrome of the machines. 

 

And even though Hinata’s reflection was small, and a little distorted, Kageyama couldn’t possibly miss the way Hinata’s face lit up as he took his first sip of the drink.

  
And he thought maybe, just maybe, this love of his could end up working out after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some more pining Kageyama in my life, so here's some Kageyama who got hit with the love stick 
> 
> and again, it's midnight and I make poor decisions (like not beta reading), sorry


End file.
